


Five Times Iwaizumi Called Oikawa a Dumbass, and One Time He Said It Back

by kaapi_writer



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up, Happy Ending, High School, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Injury, Jealousy, M/M, Recovery, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-07-29 05:34:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16257704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaapi_writer/pseuds/kaapi_writer
Summary: Tooru grudgingly allowed this, but “Hajime-chan, you’re not supposed to use that word! It’s rude!”“If you act like a dumbass I’ll call you a dumbass!” Hajime retorted, and pulled a lock of Tooru’s hair for good measure.---Exactly what it says on the tin. Growing pains and fluff abound.Warning for: Brief explicit sex scene, non-graphic mentions of injury, mentions of internalized homophobia.





	Five Times Iwaizumi Called Oikawa a Dumbass, and One Time He Said It Back

**1.**

Tooru’s hands hurt. His palms had scratches from the rough bark of the tree they were climbing, and he was pretty sure he was bleeding under a couple of fingernails. But he was already ten feet up, and when he looked up, he saw Hajime’s browned limbs and spiky hair as he nimbly proceeded even higher. This just cemented Tooru’s theory that Hajime was more closely related to monkeys than the average person, not that he’d ever say this out loud.

They’d been friends for nearly nine years now, because Tooru was nearly nine years old. Hajime had just crossed that landmark age two weeks ago, and soon it’d be Tooru’s turn. When the summer would end and school would begin, they’d be together in the same class, like they’d always been.

In third grade, one of their teachers tried to separate them, but Tooru cried the whole first day and the day after that, Hajime refused to move to his actual class, sitting stubbornly in the wrong classes with Tooru. Their parents had to be called - Hajime was a disciplined student, even at eight years old, and his throwing a tantrum of this scale was unprecedented (the teachers diplomatically skipped over Tooru, whose record was not as spotless.) It became a whole Thing, which only settled when Hajime’s mom pointed out that the school was putting its students through so much disruption only to prove a point, and assured them the parents would handle it at home.

When they came back home that afternoon, she said nothing to them at all, and Tooru gave her a bunch of flowers that he’d collected from the woods as thanks. She smiled and gave him a kiss on the forehead and said “Don’t you worry, Tooru-kun. Just keep an eye on that monkey-boy for me.”

Tooru would have, even if she hadn’t asked. It was hard to take his eyes off Hajime - possibly the only person who elicited admiration from Tooru, who was tall, smart and good at most physical activities. Hajime was smart too, stronger and quicker on his feet. Sometimes, when no-one was looking, they’d cycle to the top of the nearest hill, and then Hajime would go down the slope at full speed, no brakes, arms held up at his sides like he was flying, laughing like a cartoon villain. Tooru swore he’d never met anyone cooler in his life.

Hajime had told him earlier that day that he wanted to climb right to the top of the tree. It was about twenty feet, give or take, and Tooru was more than halfway there. Closer to the top, the bark was smoother and gripping even more difficult, but he wasn’t about to left behind. He grit his teeth and moved up another six feet to a thick branch, Hajime on the highest branch right above him, already standing, surveying the surroundings like a king. He called to Hajime to move a little, reached out to grasp the branch Hajime was standing on, and decided he’d just use the trunk to move his whole body up in one go. Hajime offered help; Tooru refused. He took a breath, hung off the branch and shoved his feet to the trunk, hoping to kick off it and pull himself up with the resulting force.

Except the trunk was too slippery to let his feet get a grip, and he didn’t find enough force to move up, just as he realized his hands were slipping on the branch too, and he had just one moment to think I’m going to fall before Hajime shouted and grasped at him. He was sitting securely on the branch with both legs wrapped around it, his entire torso thrown forward as he helped lift Tooru up on to it.

Tooru was too stunned and scared to do anything but cling to Hajime as they both panted. He’d done some risky things before, sure, but nothing had ever struck him with that mortal fear. Hajime was clinging back, holding him close in relief, before pulling back and examining Tooru’s hands. He scowled ferociously when he saw the scratches. “You hurt your hands. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to climb too,” Tooru mumbled tearfully, “It didn’t hurt that much.”  
Hajime scoffed, “You don’t have to do everything I do. You could’ve just told me and I’d have helped you down.”  
“But you were up here!” Tooru’s voice was louder, still panicky, “And we’re supposed to be together always, right?”  
Hajime frowned at him for the longest time. Then, “Dumbass! Always doesn’t mean everything! We go home separately at night, how about that?”  
Tooru grudgingly allowed this, but “Hajime-chan, you’re not supposed to use that word! It’s rude!”

“If you act like a dumbass I’ll call you a dumbass!” Hajime retorted, and pulled a lock of Tooru’s hair for good measure.  
“I’ll tell Aunty!” Tooru threatened, and he was scoffed at again.  
“If you’re going to do that I won’t help you climb down.”  
Tooru gulped as he looked down at the ground, which seemed rather far away.  
Hajime sighed. “Idiot. I won’t leave you, you know that. We’ll climb down slowly, okay? I’ll go first and you can follow.”  
Tooru gingerly nodded, and he was halfway down by the time Hajime was on firm ground. “Hajime-chan, don’t let me fall!”  
“Don’t worry, I’ll catch you. Move your foot there, that’s right.”  
Tooru jumped the last three feet and landed with an _oof_ , and Hajime immediately grabbed his hands and frowned at them. “Come on, wash them and we can apply some medicine.”  
“You called me a dumbass,” Tooru complained, happy to pick up where they’d left off.  
Hajime’s rolled his eyes. “Shut up and come home with me, Mom got you some milk bread.”

Tooru magnanimously took the peace offering, because really he wasn’t that annoyed about the insult in the first place. Hajime might call him names, but he held on to Tooru’s hand all the way home, and that was enough.

 

**2.**

Tooru had had a long day, and it was only the lunch break. He’d not scored as high as he’d hoped on a test, and the new transfer student from Osaka, Fumiko-chan, had been rather cold when Tooru went up to her and introduced himself. And to make matters worse, he’d realized only at lunch that he’d _forgotten_ his bento at home, and had to wade through the sweaty crowds in the canteen in order to buy his lunch.

He wanted peace and quiet and he wanted Hajime. When they’d been separated into different classes at the beginning of the year, they’d rolled with it because they weren’t kids anymore, and besides, as Hajime had pointed out, it didn’t matter because they spent the rest of the day together anyway. Which was why he was surprised to find nobody waiting outside his classroom when he came back from the canteen, and no missed calls on his cell. Had Hajime gone ahead to their usual spot on the rooftop? Tooru doubted it. He’d always make sure he met Tooru first because, for some reason, Hajime wasn’t sure he’d eat his lunch if they weren’t together. So it stood to reason that Hajime had not yet left his own classroom, and Tooru headed there.

He planted himself at the door, ready to yell for Hajime when his voice caught in his throat. Hajime was sitting at his bench, bento out but not yet unpacked, surrounded by a mixed group of boys and girls who were all giggling and tittering. As he watched, one of the boys pushed back Hajime’s shirtsleeve to show his bicep (which, Tooru had to admit, were excellently developed for a fourteen-year-old) and the others cawed and hooted in appreciation, Hajime smiling but scratching the back of his neck self-consciously. And then Tooru recognized one of the girls to be Fumiko-chan, her of the Kansai-ben, who had so coldly ignored his friendly overtures not an hour ago. Fumiko was standing right next to Hajime, and as he watched she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and smiled at him and said something Tooru couldn’t hear, and he watched Hajime’s relaxed, open body language as he turned to reply.

Hajime may have a scary face, a bit of a temper and tendency to stay quiet, but Tooru knew better than anyone how truly magnetic he was. He was solid, straightforward, sincere; nobody could hold a grudge in the face of Hajime’s honesty, whereas Tooru had history with quite a few people he’d crossed paths with. Hajime might always stick with Tooru, but he could manage perfectly fine on his own, flourish in fact - the proof was right before Tooru’s eyes. And from somewhere deep inside, unbidden, came that old fear that Hajime would leave Tooru behind someday. It was ridiculous - Tooru was in the more advanced class, he’d begun to pull ahead in volleyball thanks to his constant practising (Hajime could not always make it because he needed to take care of his little brother), he and Hajime were evenly matched academically - yet he had an innate feeling that if they were to be separated, Hajime’s world would keep spinning while his would stop.

“ _Hajime!_ ” He hoped his tone didn’t sound too maniacal, though from the way the group hushed, it probably had. Hajime alone was undisturbed as he frowned at Tooru, lifted his hand in a wave and took his sweet time exiting the group and walking over, bento in hand. Tooru grinned at him a little too wide and Hajime’s eyebrow twitched. “You okay there?”

“Hajime, share your bento with me, I forgot mine.” Tooru whined as he slumped against Hajime, who was already braced for his weight.  
“Be more careful,” he admonished as they climbed up to the rooftop, “You’re an athlete now, you need your nutrition.”  
Nonetheless, he sat down and carefully opened his bento, gesturing for Tooru to sit opposite him so they could share comfortably. They split Tooru’s yakisoba-pan and melonpan and Hajime’s onigiri with plums and shrimp and vegetable curry, and Tooru munched in silence, gears still turning. Hajime sighed. “What is it?”  
“Fumiko-chan just ignored me when I talked to her,” Tooru sighed, “But she was looking at your all doe-eyed.”  
“She wasn’t looking at me doe-eyed, and she probably ignored you because you’re such a flirt,” Hajime grunted. “Also…”

Tooru looked at him. Hajime had that uncomfortable but determined look on his face, like he didn’t like what was coming but was preparing to face it head on. Oikawa had seen that look directed at many other things and people, but never at himself. For some reason he couldn’t breathe.  
“Don’t you think we’re a little old to be calling each other by our first names?” Hajime asked, “Let’s just call each other Oikawa and Iwaizumi.”

Tooru was stunned. Perhaps he shouldn’t be; he recounted the past few days and realized Hajime had not addressed him by name in quite a while, simply using “you” whenever they spoke. It normally would not have winded him as much, but coming on the heels of his sudden dip in self-confidence, it seemed important. He had just been thinking about Hajime leaving him behind, and now he wanted them to address each other like they were just normal friends? _Oikawa_ would join in the legion of ordinary people who called _Iwaizumi_ by his name, and vice versa.

“Hey, hey--” Hajime was waving a hand in his face, “ _Tooru_ , come on!”  
“Sorry,” Tooru muttered, and dammit, he was acting like a kid. “It’s--it’s fine, if that’s what you want. Iwaizumi.”  
Hajime frowned despite having this brought upon himself. “Yes, I do. Oikawa.”  
“It’s weird, stop that,” Tooru complained immediately, “And Iwaizumi is too long!”  
“Well, you’ll have to deal with it, Stupidkawa,” Hajime retorted immediately, but Tooru could tell he would take time to get used to it too. Stupid Haji--Iwaizumi, turning a perfectly good thing into something awkward.

“What if I’m tossing to you?” Tooru snapped, “By the time I finish saying your name the ball will already be on its way!”  
Hajime rolled his eyes. “Fine, what do you want to do then? We’re going to high school in a couple of years, Oikawa. It’s way past time.”  
“I don’t know...Iwa-chan!”  
“What?”  
Tooru made finger guns at Hajime, who was scowling. “Iwa-chan! That’s what I’m going to call you.”  
“Shut up, that’s so stupid.”  
“You can’t even do this?” Tooru widened his eyes imploringly, “For your _best friend_ since childhood?”  
“Ugh. Fine.” Hajime said with bad grace, “And I’m calling you Oikawa.”  
“Fine,” Tooru huffed, and returned to his onigiri. He was still quiet once they’d finished, and Hajime grunted. “Okay, out with it.”  
Tooru looked up at him to see him staring in that sincere way, and sighed. “Do you want to switch to surnames because I embarrassed you today?”  
“What?” Hajime frowned, “Oh, when you called me? No, not because of that. It just reminded me that I’d been wanting to speak to you about that for a while.”  
“Iwa-chan,” Tooru said solemnly, “You have to promise me that nobody else gets to call you Iwa-chan.”  
Hajime reddened, but his gaze was soft as he whacked Tooru on the head. “I promise you nobody will address me by that ridiculous nickname. Dumbass.”

During lunch break later that week, Tooru felt his blood boil when he heard Fumiko-chan address Hajime as “Iwa-chan”, word having gotten around about the nickname. He only realized he’d been holding his breath when Hajime gently corrected her and said he’d rather leave that for Oikawa alone, thanks. And if Tooru’s heart thudded a little when Hajime saw him at the door and smiled in greeting, he was sure it was because of the pretty girl standing next to him, looking at Tooru with newfound respect in her gaze.

 

**3.**

Oikawa’s legs, from his thighs to the soles of his feet, were stinging. How long had he been practising now? It didn’t matter. He couldn’t dull the edge of the panic that burrowed into his mind and his heart and the pit of his belly as he watched Ushijima and Kageyama race ahead while he stood frozen. He felt like he couldn’t take a single full breath.

April with its pastel showers was just around the corner. Oikawa had spent the six months since Seijoh’s Spring High campaign ended splitting his time between volleyball practice and studying for his exams. Iwaizumi had accompanied him for four of those months, but the frequency of their meeting had dropped off as Iwaizumi focused on his own exams, and something else Oikawa did not like to think about.

Speaking of Iwaizumi, Oikawa was positive he recognizes the thudding footsteps that echoed outside the empty gym, and seconds later the doors flew open.

“Oikawa!” Iwaizumi barked, “It’s been two hours since everyone left, idiot! Go cool down already.”  
“Iwa-chan, shouldn't you be bothering about your own life instead of ordering me around?” Oikawa asked snidely, but he began collecting the volleyballs around his feet. Meeting Iwaizumi was now rare enough of a thing that Oikawa was willing to drop whatever he was doing to accommodate it. Not that he’d ever say that out loud.

As they cleaned up in silence, Oikawa mused about the irony of his situation. His feelings for Iwaizumi had solidified the day they’d lost to Karasuno. When their fists had thudded together that evening, on the street where they’d grown up, Oikawa had realized he wasn't ready. Wouldn't ever be ready for a life without Iwaizumi shining out of its every facet. He’d held back on saying anything for months after that, at first uncertain of his own feelings, and then reluctant to cause any kind of emotional disturbance in the lead-up to university exams. His feelings were still nebulous, but at least he could have talked it out with Iwaizumi.

Turns out he should have acted quicker, because Iwaizumi had come from his test with an actual girl’s phone number in his pocket and a tentative hopefulness in his face like Oikawa had never seen. Over the next few days, he watched Iwaizumi’s mood become more buoyant as Oikawa’s sank even lower. Mayumi-chan had apparently been in the same testing center, had chatted up Iwaizumi shamelessly right after they’d exited the exam hall, and had somehow been both engaging and nice enough that Iwaizumi wanted to stay in touch. Oikawa was sure that she’d be perfectly nice when he met her; he just didn’t want that day to come.

He finished his cooldown and showered while Iwaizumi waited patiently, and they agreed to head to a favourite ramen place not far from their houses. Iwaizumi was quiet, and didn't once look at his phone; Oikawa wondered if he was equally considerate with Mayumi-chan, then chided himself. He had only a few months left with his best friend; he’d better make the most of them.

“So, Iwa-chan,” he began, “How’s Mayumi-chan doing?”  
Iwaizumi raised his eyebrows. “She’s fine, thanks for asking.”  
“Go anywhere interesting on your dates?”  
Iwaizumi flushed, and Oikawa had to grit his teeth against the urge to break something. “Just the usual, you know. Movies, amusement parks.”  
“She got into Tohoku University, right?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Going to make a go at long-distance?”

“I don’t--what is this, Oikawa?”  
Blink of brown eyes, tilt of head. “What’s what?”  
“This.” Iwaizumi’s finger gestured back and forth between the two of them, “Why are you asking me questions like a stranger with that horrible fake smile on your face?”  
Oikawa let the smile drop in favour of a pout. “I’m just trying to be a good best friend that you can confide in.”  
Iwaizumi sighed. “Well, you can stop, because I ended things with her.”  
“ _What?_ ” Oikawa didn’t intend to be so loud, and Iwaizumi shushed him.  
“I ended things with her, okay? Neither of us were serious enough to consider long-distance. I want to concentrate on my studies, and so does she.” Iwaizumi shrugged. “I decided I wanted to spend my last summer here with people I intend to stick with.”

Oikawa was not blushing. Oikawa was not blushing. Oikawa was not--  
Iwaizumi turned to look at him, did a double take. “Why are you _blushing_ , Shittykawa?”  
“So are you, Iwa-chan!”

The tips of Iwaizumi’s ears were very red now, as was his neck. Oikawa wanted to kiss him. “Because you made it embarrassing!”

“You’re the one who talks like a sap,” Oikawa sniggered, snorted when Iwaizumi thumped him none-too-gently on the back. He then switched to hooking his arm around Oikawa’s neck, forcing him to bend a little as they walked lopsidedly to the ramen place like a couple of drunks. Oikawa’s tension, which had seemed insurmountable thirty minutes ago, was all but gone.

They walked out the ramen shop with their bellies full, Oikawa insisting on stopping at a konbini for milk bread. They headed to Oikawa’s house after Iwaizumi poked his head in at his own place to let his parents know their plans.

They settled down to watch a movie in Oikawa’s room after their baths, and Iwaizumi didn’t say anything when Oikawa picked ET even though Oikawa cried every time he watched it. They simply sat on his futon, sharing a blanket in comfortable silence as Oikawa let the familiarity of it wash over him. When it ended, Iwaizumi sighed and shifted, blinking when Oikawa looked at him with teary eyes. He gave a little smile and then, to Oikawa’s surprise, patted his head.

Oikawa could feel the blush rise in his face in a wave of heat, like an old cartoon, steam hissing out of his ears. Iwaizumi looked taken aback again, and his hand went to the nape of his neck in awkwardness.  
“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispered. He didn’t know what his face looked like, didn’t care that it probably laid out every vulnerability in stunning detail. “What was that?”  
Iwaizumi cleared his throat. “I...I don’t know.”  
“ _No._ ” Iwaizumi had been more affectionate with him this evening than he’d been since they entered high school. Closer, somehow softer, and Oikawa _hated_ it, hated that it gave him hope when he had been on the brink of giving up. He didn’t need this right now. “I deserve a better answer, Iwa-chan.”  
“Shit,” Iwaizumi swore, “What do you want me to say? That I’ll _miss_ you? Of course I’ll miss you, Oikawa! You realize how close we are? You realize neither of us has a single memory in our lives that the other isn’t a part of?”  
“You mean aside from your memories with Mayumi-chan?”

It slipped out. Oikawa knew it was unfair. He’d had his private moments with his exes, and Iwaizumi had never interfered. He had no right to--

“Oikawa. You’re like family to me, okay? You matter a lot.”  
Oikawa caught his hand. “Just as family?”

Iwaizumi looked into his eyes, and his swallow was loud enough for both of them to hear. Oikawa felt like he was on the brink of a precipice. He didn’t know whether he should turn back or let himself fall. He should probably turn back, but then he’d live the rest of his life wondering what it felt like to soar through the air for a moment before he plummeted to earth.

Iwaizumi said, “I don’t know.”  
Oikawa tried to pull away, but Iwaizumi moved faster, pulled him into a hug.  
He was so broad and warm. Oikawa rested his cheek against Iwaizumi’s shoulder and allowed himself to relax, let the tears in his eyes fall. Iwaizumi relaxed in turn, rubbing a hand over Oikawa’s back, ignoring the growing wet patch on his shirt.  
“We’re both going to Tokyo.”  
“Yes.”  
“We’ll be able to see each other fairly often.”  
“Yes.”  
“Tooru,” Iwaizumi sighed. “What I meant when I said you’re like family - you’re that important to me, okay?  I can’t give you an answer about this--whatever this thing is between us. But I’ll always be there for you.”  
Oikawa scrunched his eyes to keep from crying again. “Promise me, Hajime?”

Iwaizumi pulled back, smiled at him and wiped the tear going down Oikawa’s cheek. “Of course I do, dumbass.”

 

**4.**

All Oikawa could see was bright light. He lay there confused for what seemed like an hour, wondering if this was the light at the end of the tunnel. It wasn’t very warm light, though. He was a little cold, could feel himself shivering.

Sawamura Daichi’s face appeared above him, handsome and concerned and somehow fatherly. Oikawa blinked at him. Was Sawamura an angel? He certainly had that earthy goodness which Oikawa imagined angels might possess.

Iwaizumi’s face appeared next to Sawamura’s. Now this was the face of an angel, Oikawa was sure. His own guardian angel, handsome and caring and the best ace, no matter who Oikawa tossed to--

Wait, tossing? Hadn’t he just been doing that?

Iwaizumi’s voice filtered through. “Tooru. Tooru, God. Are you okay?”  
“I’m not dead?”  
Oikawa lifted his head and the lights disappeared. They were indoor lights, then. And along with this revelation came the most blinding pain Oikawa had ever experienced. “Ah. It hurts. _It hurts_.”  
Iwaizumi kneeled next to Oikawa and helped him sit up. “Yeah, it’s your ligament. You also hit your head pretty hard when you fell.”

Oikawa lifted a hand behind his head and winced at the tender bump he felt there, but the pain in his leg overruled it immediately. He blindly attempted to grab at his knee, to do something to ease it, but Iwaizumi pushed his hands away.

“Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa’s eyes were swimming, “It _hurts_. It hurts so _badly_.”  
“I know. I called an ambulance. Easy,” Iwaizumi grasped his chin, shone a light in his eyes, clicked his tongue. “Pupils seem alright, but we should get it checked out at the hospital. It’s okay, Tooru. I’m here. Just hold on.”  
Quiet for a moment, Oikawa clutching at Iwaizumi’s shirt as he ground his teeth in pain.  
“How bad is it, Hajime? Wi-will I be able to play again?”  
Iwaizumi swallowed. “I don’t know. I can’t say for sure. But if there’s a way to get you back on that court, I swear on my life I’ll find it.”

Oikawa leaned against his shoulder and let the tears fall as the familiar sound of an ambulance siren filled the air.

Four hours later, Oikawa was lying in a hospital bed. They’d given him some painkillers, taken an X-ray and an MRI and Iwaizumi was now in deep discussion with the doctor who’d examined Oikawa. Oikawa tapped his fingers nervously on the bed beside him, staring at his elevated knee where the swelling had gone down. The doctor had been sympathetic, but firm. Reconstructive surgery was complicated, but with Oikawa’s having been shortlisted for the national team just a few weeks ago, it was a risk the doctor would recommend he’d take. Oikawa had the benefit of being in almost perfect shape physically, and he also had Iwaizumi, who was going to graduate with a degree in sports medicine, for a housemate. The odds were more in his favour than most people. He’d need at least six months, probably closer to a year, but it was very doable.

Iwaizumi came back to Oikawa’s bedside, smiling at him ruefully. “So, did you talk to your parents?”  
“Yes, they said they’ll be here for the surgery.” A beat of silence. “Are you sure about this, Iwa-chan?”  
“How many times do I have to tell you? Yes, I’m sure.” Iwaizumi sat down on the bed beside Oikawa’s good leg. Oikawa, who could read him like a book, saw the acceptance on his face - no resignation, no irritation, no regret. Just sympathy for Oikawa’s situation and a fierce desire to help.  
“Okay, Hajime.” He said softly, and Iwaizumi met his eyes and smiled. “Okay, Tooru.”

Oikawa knew this was neither the time nor the place, but the soft, sweet way Iwaizumi said his name was something else. “Careful not to be too nice, or you might spoil me.”  
“I spoil you anyway,” Iwaizumi retorted. “And when have you ever complained?”

He was right. Iwaizumi had been spoiling him since their first year in Tokyo.

They’d lived apart for that year, found new flats and roommates and lives, and Oikawa had hated it. He’d known he’d hate it, but not so much . They met once a month for the first year, Oikawa distancing himself from Iwaizumi while hating himself for it, until in the summer after first year, two weeks before their leases were up, Iwaizumi had thudded into Oikawa’s flat one afternoon and shoved the house listings under his nose.

“Pick something,” he’d muttered, “make sure it’s not too far for either of us, make sure there’s running water and electricity and that the street doesn’t stink. That’s all. I don’t care where we move, but I’m sick of this, I’m sick of trying to reach out to you all the time and I’m sick of your self-pity. If you think you need me around all the time, that’s fine, but fucking _say_ it. Use your words.”

Oikawa had said nothing, just silently circled candidates while Iwaizumi had gone to fetch drinks, and when he’d returned they’d debated the merits of each choice. A couple of visits later, they’d settled into a flat in a quiet building on a quiet street, and stayed there. Stayed there while Iwaizumi grew busier and Oikawa became more integral to his university team; stayed there going on three summers when Oikawa’s ligament gave. In all that time, neither of them had ever brought anyone home. They'd spent their free time together, acknowledging the air between them but never acting on it.

They’d been gearing for Oikawa’s big move to the national stage, where he’d split his time between Tokyo and Osaka. Iwaizumi was going to stay back in Tokyo, because he’d already received a couple of job offers.

They’d been working their way up to a second goodbye, after the cancellation of the first. Oikawa had been hoping there would be kissing involved.

“You should be flattered,” Oikawa trilled, “Can you imagine someone else who’d _bust their knee_ so you wouldn’t get rid of them?”  
“Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi groaned, fingers twitching like he was trying not to grab Oikawa’s head and squeeze, “I was _not_ getting rid of you. You were--are, going to the national team for goodness’ sake. You’re on the stage up there with fucking Ushiwaka and Kageyama and god knows who else.”  
“But _you’re_ here, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa complained, “Why can’t you take a job in Osaka too? Work for my team! Then everyone will get used to Iwa-chan’s amazing massages and they’ll never let you go.”  
Iwaizumi snorted. “As much as I’d like to do that, I’ll need a few years under my belt before the Volleyball Association lets me get anywhere near their players. As you very well know.”  
“I don’t know any such thing,” Oikawa proclaimed, and rested his head against Iwaizumi’s shoulder, “I’d trust Iwa-chan with my life, fresh out of college or no.”

Iwaizumi froze, and Oikawa looked up at him after a minute.

Big mistake. Iwaizumi was the most honest, sincere, straightforward person Oikawa knew. He was also the person Oikawa had been around every single day for eighteen years. Oikawa knew every minute twitch on that grumpy face. And he couldn’t look into Iwaizumi’s eyes at that point and not see the absolute, unfiltered, hopeless adoration there.

In the next breath, Iwaizumi had leaned forward and pressed his lips to Oikawa’s. It was a tentative kiss, soft and dry, and it made Oikawa heady. He moaned when they parted, followed those chapped lips, whining when Iwaizumi held him off.  
“Tooru,” he said urgently, “Wait. I need to know these are not the pain meds talking. Please.”  
Oikawa just blinked at him slowly, hoping it would dawn on Iwaizumi what an idiot he was.

“Iwaizumi Hajime, I have been in love with your stupid, stubborn, bullheaded ass since we were fifteen years old and you gave me a fucking nosebleed because you were too stupid to use your words. It’s been seven years and I’ve tried and tried and I can’t seem to get over it. If you don’t want to further ruin this moment, the most romantic moment of our entire _lives_ , by being an idiot, then I suggest you shut up and kiss me again.”

Iwaizumi did.

Later, when their lips were swollen and they’d been soundly scolded by the nurse who’d caught them making out, Iwaizumi sat back against the headrest of the bed with Oikawa half leaning against him, sniffing Oikawa’s hair like the uncouth caveman he was. Oikawa loved it.  
“Iwa-chan,” he said sweetly, and Iwaizumi hummed. His eyes were lidded, sleepy and relaxed, and his hand kept tracing patterns up Oikawa’s arms.  
“You don’t have to help me with the therapy after the surgery. Just because you’re my boyfriend now, I mean.”

Iwaizumi grasped Oikawa’s chin to make their eyes meet. “Tooru, I’m not just doing this for your sake. I’m doing it for mine. I can’t rest easy unless I know you’re with someone who’s trying their utmost to help you with this. And frankly, I can’t trust anyone except your family and myself to have those intentions. So yes, I am helping you after the surgery, whether you want it or not.”  
“Why?” Oikawa knew he was pushing for the words, didn’t care.  
Iwaizumi sighed, exasperated. “Because I’m in love with you, dumbass.”  
Oikawa smiled, incredibly smug. “Good. You can kiss me now.”  
Iwaizumi groaned into his mouth. “You’re going to be the death of me, I just know it.”  
“Bingo,” Oikawa declared cheerily.

His career was in peril, and he was still worried about the surgery. Iwaizumi wasn’t an antidote to every ache, Oikawa knew. But he made the journey ahead seem infinitely more bearable, and that was more than enough.

 

**5.**

“Oikawa!”

The thudding on the door hadn’t let up in over fifteen minutes. Oikawa leaned against it, grateful that he--they lived in a penthouse apartment, because it would be difficult to explain all that noise to any neighbours.  
All that noise, and why his face was puffy from crying.  
“Go away, Iwa-chan!” he snarled, “Go home! ”  
The thudding stopped abruptly, and Oikawa tried not to make any noise as he sobbed, sitting there slumped next to the genkan. Then he felt a push against his back and realized Iwaizumi was probably mirroring his position on the other side of the door.  
“Tooru,” he said, voice cracking, “We need to talk about this.”  
“No, we don’t. We’ve already talked our hearts out, Iwa-chan. You should leave. Go back to Miyagi.”  
Iwaizumi growled. “I’m telling you, for the hundredth time, I’m not going anywhere.”  
“You need to return to your parents, Hajime,” Oikawa sighed. “It’s killing you. I can see it. I’ve been seeing it every day since we told them.”  
Iwaizumi was silent for a beat. “I’m not going back to them. I’m not letting them win. They’re wrong in this, Tooru.”

“Why are you being so stubborn?” Oikawa burst out, “I’ve been waiting, hoping they accept us over time. But they’re determined to make you choose, and I don’t want that! I don’t want to you to resent me.”  
“I will _never_ resent you,” Iwaizumi swore, “If there’s anybody I’ll resent, it’s them. They’re doing this to drive a wedge between us, Oikawa. I’ve made my choice and it’s you. They’ll have to come around if they want to reconcile.”  
“Hajime, it’s been two years since they spoke to you properly. They’ve been giving you shit about this for so long. And I know they won’t let up. People like us - it never lets up.”  
“Tooru, I love you.”  
“Yes, and you also love your family. How long will you hold off? Birthdays, Christmas, festivals. You’ve not had one happy moment with them in two years, and it’s all because of me.”  
“ _Shut up_!” Iwaizumi shouted, and Oikawa jumped. “Shut up, shut up, shut up! Oikawa Tooru, if you ever say something so stupid again, you’ve had it from me. Open this fucking door. Now.”  
Oikawa hesitated.  
“Open it, or I’ll break it down. You know I can.”

The moment he opened the door Iwaizumi rushed in, crowding him against the opposite wall, seizing Oikawa’s jaw with one hand and meeting his gaze with impossible fierceness. “So what if they’re assholes?” he snarled. “So what if they’ve made me miserable? Do you think being with you doesn’t make up for it?”  
Oikawa tried to speak, but Iwaizumi went on, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking.

“They were the reason I spent so many years trying to avoid my feelings for you. Dumbest thing I ever did. I should have kissed you when we were fifteen, I should have moved in with you when we went to college and I should have fucking married you by now. The past four years of my life have been the happiest because I’ve been with you. Our relationship means more to me-- _you_ mean more to me than anything. I would fucking _die_ for you, you absolute asshole.”  
Before Oikawa could think, Iwaizumi was kissing the breath out of him, pushing him up against the wall with animal strength, his tongue thrusting possessively, his hands roving everywhere.

  
Oikawa moaned. He knew the timing was weird, knew he was still emotional, but having Iwaizumi so close, almost violent with how much he loved Oikawa, went straight to his groin.  
Iwaizumi squinted at him, and then laughed harshly. “Horny bastard,” he snarled, pressing their hips together so Oikawa was pinned against the wall, and yes, Iwaizumi was getting hard too. Iwaizumi leaned forward and whispered against his ear, “We can talk later, if you want. But don’t you _dare_ insinuate I belong anywhere other than here, Tooru.”  
Oikawa nodded obediently, moaning his name as Iwaizumi began pushing their clothes out of the way. He buried his face in Iwaizumi’s neck as they rutted together frantically, half-dressed, Iwaizumi’s hand around both their dicks.  
When they were both teetering on the brink, Iwaizumi gave a rough twist of his wrist and pushed them over the precipice, Oikawa sobbing as he came.  
“Say it,” Iwaizumi growled, teeth on his neck.  
“I love you,” Oikawa whimpered, “Stay with me, Hajime.”  
“Always, Tooru.”

Later, they slumped together on the couch in clean clothes. Iwaizumi was looking at his phone, one arm still possessively around Oikawa. Between this fight and Iwaizumi’s parents being shitty to them for the umpteenth time, Oikawa knew he was going to be handsy for the next few days.

Good thing his own parents had taken their relationship in stride.

Iwaizumi’s phone chirped, and his eyebrows rose in surprise. “It's Arata.”  
Oikawa tensed. Iwaizumi’s little brother was one of their strongest allies, often mediating between them and Iwaizumi’s parents. He’d been the sole reason Christmas last year had been salvaged.  
Iwaizumi took a deep breath. “My parents want to apologize-- not just for yesterday, for all of it. Apparently. I have no idea what Arata must have said to them yesterday, but both of them seem sincere about it.”  
“What?” Oikawa demanded. “Just like that? How ?”  
“Looks like Arata threatened to cut them off if they kept this up.”  
“Woah. He’s too young to decide something like that.”  
Iwaizumi shrugged. “He moved out when he was eighteen, he’s earning really well now and he’s fed up with it. He says he sat down with them yesterday and really hammered it out. Mom and Dad seem to have realized just how much they’ve lost out on. And,” he added, amused, “Arata may have hinted that we were thinking of moving to America, and they’d lose out on the chance to reconcile with me forever.”

Oikawa laughed. “Smart Ara-kun.”  
“He also involved your parents and sister, looks like.”  
“What? Nee-chan didn’t say anything!” Oikawa whipped out his phone and texted his sister.  
His phone chimed a minute later. “She says _Talk to you later, currently beating some sense into your in-laws._ ”  
“I’m scared,” Iwaizumi said, amused.  
Oikawa sighed and tipped his head back. “My head hurts.”

“Did you eat anything today?” Iwaizumi asked immediately.  
“...No.”  
“Oikawa.” Iwaizumi rubbed his temples. “Fine. Do you want me to make you something?”  
“Yes! ” Oikawa could think of nothing better than Iwaizumi’s cooking. Even something like omurice would do.  
“Well, tough luck, because I’m shit tired. Order a pizza.”  
“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa whined, pushing into Iwaizumi’s space until his head rested under Iwaizumi’s chin. “Why must you be so mean?”

“You locked me outside while you threw a tantrum like a heroine in a K-drama,” Iwaizumi began baldly, “You tried to get me to go home to Miyagi when all I wanted was to be with you. You did all this on the day when we were supposed to go grocery shopping because the fridge is empty. Take your pick.”  
“Fine, I’m choosing the place!”  
Iwaizumi said nothing, just pulled him closer and buried his face in Oikawa’s hair when he was done ordering. “God, Tooru, don’t ever push me away like that again. I swear I’ll hunt you down and handcuff you to me.”  
“Kinky,” Oikawa murmured, and felt the smile at his temple with relief.  
He’d known in his heart of hearts that pushing Iwaizumi away was a bad idea, but he needed to be sure that Iwaizumi was one hundred percent with him. It was selfish, but he’d been having nightmares about Iwaizumi blaming him for alienating him from his family. Oikawa could hardly bear to see Iwaizumi suffer while dealing with them every day; he’d never live through Iwaizumi resenting him.

While they were polishing off the last of their pizza, Iwaizumi’s phone chirped again.

“What did Ara-kun say?”  
“It can wait.”  
Iwaizumi pulled Oikawa into his lap again and kissed him, pepperoni breath and all. Oikawa melted against him, felt hands tenderly carding through his hair and Iwaizumi’s lips pressed against his. Four years, and he was still so smitten. The world outside might explode in flames, but inside their little apartment all was quiet except for their ragged breathing.  
“I love you,” Iwaizumi murmured. “I love all of you. I love your stupid hair and your amazing serves and your terrible fashion sense. I love that you use your knee to demand massages all the time--”  
“ _Hey_.”  
“I love how good you are with people. I love that you cling to me in your sleep, I love that you cling to me when you’re awake.”  
“It’s _mutual_ \--”  
“I love you so much, Tooru. I love you more than anything.” Iwaizumi looked at him, and fuck, his eyes were watering. “My parents don't matter. I mean, I’d be glad if they come around. But nothing is worth giving you up for. I have you now, and there’s no way I’m going back to how I was before. I’m staying with you, dumbass.”  
“Okay,” Oikawa whispered, overcome with tenderness, kissing his eyelids. “Okay, Hajime.”

Eventually, Iwaizumi looked at his phone. “Arata says Mom wants to call and talk to us. Not me, us. Tomorrow. Will that be okay?”

Oikawa stared at him. Iwaizumi’s parents, who used to treat him like a second son. Who had not spoken a word to Oikawa since Iwaizumi had revealed their relationship. Unbidden, an image of Iwaizumi’s mother patting his hair and cooing popped in his head, and Oikawa had to swallow the lump in his throat. Perhaps he had tried to force Iwaizumi’s hand because Oikawa couldn’t fathom living with that sort of painful relationship with his own parents.

Not that it mattered now.

“Sure,” he murmured, and smiled at the tentative hope in Iwaizumi’s eyes. “Why not? It’s been a while.”

 

**+1**

Iwaizumi Arata cleared his throat. “So,” he began, nervously adjusting his tie when it didn’t need adjusting, “All set?”

Oikawa hummed absently as he watched Arata in his dressing room mirror. He bore a strong resemblance to his older brother, but where Hajime’s eyes were like a cat’s, sharp and alert, Arata’s eyes were big and soulful, giving him the appearance of a shoujo romance protagonist. Takeru, who was a couple of years behind Arata at school, had said he was something of a heartthrob. Oikawa could believe it.

Takeru was currently lounging next to Arata on the couch in Oikawa’s dressing room, concentrating on the game Arata was supposed to be testing. Arata was tapping his foot nervously. For all he had stood up a lot to his parents and been instrumental in bringing them to this point, he was still a little weirded out when Oikawa and Iwaizumi indulged in displays of affection. Oikawa of course used this to his full advantage.

On his other side Oikawa Tomi, the only other person Oikawa would ever trust with his hair, hummed as she styled it to perfection. She then grabbed his face and smacked a kiss on to his cheek.

“Nee-chan!”  
“Oh shut up,” she hummed, hugging him, “My baby brother is getting married!”  
“Mom, you’ve known about this for six months,” Takeru frowned, looking up from his (Arata’s) console.  
“You won’t understand,” she huffed, “I swear, you might be my blood but you take after your uncle Hajime! About as emotional as a brick.”  
“Iwa-chan is plenty emotional,” Oikawa offered, grinning. “Which is why Ara-kun is here with us, isn’t it?”

Arata sat up like a deer in headlights.  
“Hajime’s freaking out, right? That’s what you’ve been trying to tell me for the past ten minutes?”  
“I didn’t want to set up a chain reaction,” Arata explained apologetically, and Oikawa laughed.  
Somehow, the butterflies in his stomach disappeared in the face of Iwaizumi’s distress.  
“He wanted to talk to me, but he knew I didn’t want bad luck?”

Arata nodded.  
Oikawa hummed. “We have twenty minutes left before the ceremony. Tell him to meet me in the garden outside.”  
As Arata scrambled, Tomi raised her eyebrow. “Don’t care about bad luck anymore?”  
“I just wanted to follow the traditions for fun,” Oikawa winked as he headed out French windows to the garden, “No point having a wedding if one of the grooms decides to make a run for it.”

Five minutes later, Iwaizumi walked into the garden outside their wedding venue, wearing his dress pants and waistcoat, to find Oikawa standing near the koi pond, resplendent in his white suit. Oikawa watched his breath catch in his throat, the utter adoration in his eyes, and smiled. “Hajime.”  
Iwaizumi grasped his hands, pulled them up to kiss his palms, and Oikawa felt himself blush. “Tooru, you’re unbelievable.”  
“I thought you were getting cold feet?”  
Iwaizumi frowned, nuzzling Oikawa’s palm where it rested on his cheek. “Not about this. Never about this. I just-- is this how you want to do it? In front of everyone? The whole world will know.”

Oikawa resisted pointing out that the entire Japanese national team had known about their relationship since Oikawa had joined them and eight years on, it was old news. His sponsors had never had an issue with his personal life. Iwaizumi’s parents had come around after a lot of painful conversations and now, in a bid to make up for lost time, were unwavering in their support. Anyone who knew Oikawa in any capacity knew Iwaizumi came attached.

Besides, Oikawa was damned if he was going to marry the finest man on the planet and not _brag_ about it a little.

“I don’t care if the whole world knows. I want this.”  
“It’s just a ceremony. We’re already legally married. You don’t have to put yourself up for scrutiny.”  
“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa sighed. “Can you stop worrying? I want to tell the world we’re married. I want everyone to know you’re my husband. I want to scream it from the rooftops. And then I want a house, and two cats and a dog and maybe kids.”  
Iwaizumi flushed.  
“Or maybe no kids. But I want us to have everything, Hajime. Whatever I do, I want it with you. Okay?”  
“Okay,” Iwaizumi murmured, took a deep breath and went in for a kiss, which Oikawa blocked. “Ah-ah, can we save something for the ceremony? You’re making us late! Go, go!”

Iwaizumi pouted. Actually _pouted_. Oikawa almost gave in right there.

He chased away his very reluctant husband and scurried inside to twirl one last time in front of the mirror, making sure everything was in place.  
Tomi smirked. “Didn’t take very long.”  
“Eh, what can I say, I’m convincing.”  
“On the contrary, this may be the first time Hajime has capitulated so quickly,” Tomi observed. “What did you tell him?”  
Tooru smirked at her. “Just the truth.”

Ten minutes later, Oikawa’s father walked him down the aisle to a smiling and tearful Iwaizumi, who couldn’t take his eyes off him. His husband was absolutely magnificent in his black suit to match Oikawa’s white. They’d chosen teal pocket squares to go with both suits. A pair of plain platinum bands with “dauntless” inscribed inside them were resting in the pocket of one Iwaizumi Arata, who was shifting nervously from foot to foot and grinning.

Oikawa recited all his vows without his voice breaking even once, watched the warmth in Iwaizumi’s eyes and the blush in his cheeks as he followed suit. They exchanged rings and embraced before the priest could give permission, laughing along with their audience as they kissed.

“Guess you’re stuck with me now, huh?” Iwaizumi whispered tenderly, the applause in the hall ringing in their ears.

Oikawa smiled. “Iwa-chan, you dumbass. Where _else_ would I be?”  
  
_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> I had quite a bit of fun picking out names for Oikawa’s and Iwaizumi’s siblings for this fic. Disclaimer that I can’t read kanji so I have to go off a few online dictionaries, I did check these meanings across multiple dictionaries though. I like their names a lot and I’ll probably keep them for any future fics.
> 
> Oikawa’s sister’s name is Tomi (富) which means wealth or fortune. I was looking for a single-kanji name similar to Tooru (徹), and as a bonus her name fits with how I imagine her (a posher, smarter version of Tooru.)
> 
> Iwaizumi’s brother’s name is Arata (新) which means fresh or new. I thought it matched well with the spirit of Hajime (一) which can mean first or the beginning. 
> 
> The kanji for Hajime and Tooru together makes Ittetsu (一徹) which means obstinate or dauntless and I thought it described the spirit of their love very well. Bless Furudate-sensei for naming them so wonderfully, it overwhelms my shippy heart. 
> 
> This was honestly supposed to be a very light-hearted fic, then it forged its own path into angst - but I'm happy with how it turned out!
> 
> I'm always open to CC on my writing so feel free to drop some! <3


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